When You Love a Woman
by Felony TeXas
Summary: A story the follows two characters through their age of legends deaths, and into their lives in the Age of Prophecy. It isn't entirely completed yet. So please r/r to what's been posted so far.


**READ ME FIRST:** Okay this is an Age of Legends Fan Fiction (which sums up to meaning I don't actually own most of what's being presented, live with it, I have). THe characters are original. There are some flaws, that should be fixed, eventually. But I want to finish the story before I go back and nit-pick the mistakes (such as Trollocs being present in the Age of Legends,oops my bad). Please read and responde, it's always good to know what I'm doing well and what I'm doing poorly in.

**When You Love a Woman:**  
_ Kaiohko and Valshean are reunited_

**The Age of Legends: On the Fridges of War…**

"No!" Her voice echoed back at her from the high stone peaks above. She could barely feel the ground beneath her as she raced down the steep slope, her pace enough that if she were to slip she would surely meet her doom. If not from the fall then upon the sharp edge of the jagged rocks that jutted out along her path. 

She reached her destination and collapsed upon her knees. She pressed the pain from her mind, forcing it to leave as pointed shards dug deep into her skin and left her bleeding. Her fingers, worn with hard work and coated with dirt, reached for the figure that lay upon the earth, his blood pooled around his head, and drained from his open mouth where he struggled for breath, for life. The wounds to his face and skull were the least of the damages his right leg had been torn asunder, as if a great beast had ripped at it with powerful jaws. 

It was a beast, neither truly man nor animal, that caused him such harm. And the creature lay dead near the fallen male. Large wolf-like jaws hanging open with a lengthy tongue to dangle between razor sharp k-9's and gather in a pool of midnight blood on the stone surface which had cracked its skull. The man looked near the same fate, his right arm pressed across his chest, hiding a wound that leaked his own life force over his fingers. 

She felt tears well with in her eyes, stinging her senses that were unaccustomed to such out ward displays of fragility. She had long since given up on petty emotions, but now she faced death had on, staring down upon its face as it slowly overcame her beloved. 

"Aluesha…" His name was staggered over his lips that despite the wealth of blood poured upon them were dried and slowly edged towards blue rather then natural pink. 

"Shhh" She cooed to him, and ran her dirtied fingers back into his dark hair. She brushed it back, away from his forehead to allow his eyes to see with out interference. "You must save your strength, there is no need for words, you can speak to me when we are away from this mountain, this war…" 

"I will not be coming with you…"His hand, coated in his own blood, clutched at her frail wrist, closing about it securely and pulling her touch from his flesh. He ached for the feel of her body, the way she could so tenderly touch him. But he forced himself to continue, holding her away from him. "I will not…" 

"Don't." She interrupted, her face contorted with a pain he'd never seen there before. He'd known her for years, and had served upon her as the Warder compliment to her Aes Sedai, and he had never seen such a look upon her face. 

Her dark eyes, serene as his own, were caught in turmoil as they looked down upon him. Her small body that was the house of so much power and self control was bent over his figure as if to shield him from a rain that was beginning to fall. She had brown hair, which at the beginning of the day had been slung in a tight braid down her back, but had since been torn from it, and fell, before her dirtied face as a match to the streaks of mud. Her dress, so perfect and so white was the same color as the world around them, black, brown and bloody. He could not believe the woman before him now was the same who had begun with the dawn. 

He struggled to breath; a deep gasping breath was taken, deep into his lungs. He sputtered a cough, and spat blood from his lips that came from his chest. The wheezing stopped after several more coughs and another mouth full of blood and salvia was produced. 

"Arcaian!" She cried, reaching to comfort him, but finding her wrist bound by his strong hand. "Light, no…Please, no…" Her voice was not strong as it had always been, commanding and irreverent, it was weak. And she found herself pleading for his life, even if she would be forced to trade her own for such a favor. 

"Aluesha, please, I beg of you…Run. Save yourself of this damnable place, of this war. Please, save yourself." He brought his eyes to her, holding her gaze, and for every moment she pleaded, he pleaded for her to leave him. Let him die his death alone, and leave her not with images of his still body. 

"Let me heal you! Please, Arcaian, I cannot bare to see such pain…" She struggled against the hold he had upon her wrist. She could feel his fingers tightening each time she thought she might be able to free herself. She used her free hand to dig at his clothing, to pull his shirt and force it to give against his body and tear open so she could properly address his wounds with a healers touch. "Oh Light…" She gasped when she saw the severity of what had been done to him. 

His chest bore a large hole, deep inside of it, a wound that must have been placed by the jagged end of a pointed spear. His right side had claw marks running along the tender edges of his stomach and abdomen. The blood oozed from each wound, more with each breath, like the rivers of spring after the snow has melted. And she knew in her heart of hearts that she could not heal these, she could not use her own gifts with The Power to take away each of these wounds, no matter her strength. They were too deep, too great, and too numerous for her wearied body to withstand. 

Her concentration on his injuries was broken when his hands touched her face. She could feel blood on his one, and she felt it warm against her own flesh and stained it red. Her eyes brought themselves to once more meet upon his with an ever growing sense of dread. 

"Arcaian…" She whimpered his name between her lips. Her eyes closed tightly, to battle back her tears at the oncoming defeat. But it would not be so easy to conquer her emotions, and the tears fell regardless. 

"Shhh, listen to me, Aluesha. Listen to me. You must flee this place, run from it and never look back. Go some place, any place. It matters not, just flee here. Do not stand upon this hill a moment longer. You must go, we can not win here. You must leave, fight our battles another day." He ran his blood-greased thumb along her cheek, smearing the precious liquid around her flesh. 

"I cannot leave you, Arcaian. I can not." 

"You can, and you will. Do as I demand, Aluesha. Aes Sedai or no I am still your elder." He humored her with a smile, it was pained and his eyes reflected nothing of the motion in his lips. He wanted her gone, to never witness his death, and to never see what a hungry Trolloc would do to his flesh when they happened upon it. 

"Please don't…You cannot leave me as this, we are meant to grow old together. You promised me, Arcaian! Swore unto me that it would be forever! Do not leave me!" The last phrase was a high-pitched desperate plea for him to live. She knew such a thing was beyond his control, she had seen his wounds as surely as he had felt them, and knew just by looking they could never lead to his life, only his death. 

"Shhh! Shhh!" He pulled her down upon him, pressing her against his chest, to quiet her tears, her hysterics. He heaved for breath around his own sadness; it was over whelming how much ache he could feel to leave her behind in such a place. "I love you, as I have from the beginning and I will until the end of time. Always in spirit, Aluesha. Always. In flesh we will meet again in the coming ages, and again and again until time its self parishes and the wheel no longer turns. You will know me…"He gasped, as if something invisible had seized his body and caused a great shudder. "You will know me, always, by my love of you." His lips pressed against her forehead, and then rested. He allowed his body to relax, and in the back of his mind he could feel death claiming his flesh. 

She could hear the beating of his heart from where her head lay. And she could hear it slipping away, slowing, and eventually it was gone. There was nothing left. His breath no longer wheezed from his blood filled lungs, and his grip upon her had slackened to be non-existent. When she was certain his body had stopped functioning she drew herself away, disentangling his limp arms from her shoulders and waist. 

She pressed his hands across his torso in a cross. Tenderly positioning his arms to hold the position, and placing a dagger between the folds of his two wrists. It had been a gift, from her to him upon the day they had bonded. She wore two rings upon her left hand, and took to examining both as she forced her weakened knees to stand. 

A gold band encircled the fourth finger on her left hand, beneath the band a ring of white, to signify the time she'd worn it. Four years ago she'd placed the ring upon her hand and sworn love to no other but he, for eternity. Beside it, on the extended middle finger a serpent in precious metals wrapped eating its own tail rested. The ring to mark her rank, Aes Sedai, a servant of the people. 

She was only vaguely aware of the dark mass that was moving towards her, with lumbering foot steps as if it would have been better suited to gallop across the ground on all fours. She lifted her head at the last moment to see a spear point coming at her. She only had a moment to feel fear before it was driven the center of her chest, between her breasts. The beast released the weapon and let the white-clothed woman fall. She fell backwards, and her skull split with a reverberating "cracking" sound against the point edge of a torn rock. Her figure slumped against the ground, the mud, and lay still. Her body, so very close to touching that of her fallen lover, with blood to seep from her skull, and a spear sticking from the center of her chest. 

The beast approached, snapping large animal-like jowls, and lathering his lips with a long pink tongue. A fist grabbed hold of the spear and yanked it from his victim, tossing it aside as the free hand grabbed the much smaller, much more human, body. He hefted the body up over one shoulder, and turned to find a weapon lodged in his gut. 

Upon the end of the thick sword stood a short, stocky man, his face was twisted into an ugly snarl that matched that of the Trolloc that held the woman in white. The beast-man released the woman, dropping her to the ground, her limp body slid along the steep embankment of the mountain, halting only after a collision with a large bolder. 

The Trolloc hissed, and screamed at the pain of a second sword being thrust deep into his chest cavity. The powerful arms of the human twisted the weapons and forced them to meet in the center of the beast's upright torso. The mutilated body fell with a loud thump against the ground, death consuming it as twitches were the last reminder of nerves that had screamed in pain at being severed. 

The human stepped past the body of the fallen Trolloc and approached the body of Arcaian. He stared down at the form that had been laid to rest in the best manner available in these times. He stared at the blood on his face, and the mud, even the wounds upon the other male's torso and legs. 

"Gaidal!" The voice was familiar to him, and he turned to find the source. 

A woman with hair like honey approached, moving fast upon her sturdy legs, leaping over fallen bodies to reach his side. She heaved for breath; the run up the slope was not ease even for those in the best of conditions. She pushed a thick braid of her hair behind her shoulders as she placed her hand upon the crock of his arm. She followed his studious gaze that had returned with a solemn expression to the male body before him. 

"Oh light!" She cried out seeing the face she knew well. She had ridden horses into battle beside the man for many years now. And shared bare rations with him over minimal fires in the deadest part of winter, she knew his kind and gentle face all too well. "Arcaian…" She whispered his name, as she stared at the horribly mutilated body. "Aluesha?" Wherever the male was, the female counter part could not be far off. 

Gaidal turned his eyes to Teadra, watching her pale blue pools fill with water at the site of the fallen warrior. They had all battled side by side for 10 years now, and even in the most sorrowful of times Arcaian and Aluesha had trudged forward, onwards under the direction of the Dragon. Never had the Aes Sedai and her bonded guardian questioned the validity of what they did, nor the hopelessness. Gaidal saw all of the strain of war placed upon the indignant pair in the expression upon Arcaian's face as death held him. And as he saw his own love near to weeping for the loss of friends and companions, he felt it necessary to lie. "She is gone." He stated simply, in a voice like the growl he'd owned moments before, harsh, raspy. 

"No, she would never leave his side…She wouldn't leave him like this to be devoured by Trollocs." Teadra protested, her voice conveying desperation to believe that Aluesha would never leave Arcaian's side. She had valued their love, their devotion, and held it with in such a high esteem the thought of that bond breaking, even upon death was more then the archer could bear. 

"Go on ahead, I shall tend to his burial and join you as soon as proven able." He ushered her towards the peak of the mountain, encouraging her to join the others in their seeking of safety amongst large rocks and boulders. "Go, Teadra, I will take care of what must be done." 

His voice held a commanding tone that did not allow room for questioning. Teadra nodded her head, and started up the steep slope, digging the heel of her bow into the mud as a system for balance. 

Once she was safely far enough way not to risk turning back, or even looking back, Gaidal moved. He carefully stepped down the steep slope, sliding in the mud and catching himself on rocks. He felt slivers of the stones dig into his fingers as he would clutch them to keep from falling. He maneuvered himself to the place he'd seen Aluesha's body fall. She had been hidden from Teadra by means of a large rock, he was thankful that such a site could be hidden. The once regal form of Aluesha was something less then human now, her neck was twisted, and her spine was the same. Her face was bloodied, and a portion of her skull was knocked inwards, allowing blood and brain tissue to ease through the cracks. 

He carefully lifted the figure of the woman, he had known her for many years now, and the site of her crumpled body with blood and mud covering her white dress, was difficult to grasp. He held her against him as he struggled to make his way back up the hill. He didn't have time to bury them as they deserved, deep in the heart of the ground to avoid being eaten by hungry Trollocs, but the least he could do is place them together. 

For as broad as his shoulders were, and as brutish in appearance as he was, he was gentle when he set Aluesha's dead body next to that of her husbands. Her laid her out so that her spine and neck were straight, rather that at odd angles, and carefully smoothed the skirts of her dress over her legs. Her arms were crossed over her chest, covering the wound that stained her front with red. He was unsure if the wound in her chest was her cause of death, or the wound in her head that had been her final moment. In either respect, both were hidden from plain site. He made certain they were together in death, they had always been together in life, and in death it seemed only fitting. 

"Blood and Ashes" he cursed, turning to follow Teadra's path up the steep slope to rejoin with the others, a group of rag tag warriors that in historical references would be tied to the Horn of Valere. They were two short now. "Blood and ashes…" 

**Age of Prophecy: Tar Valon…**

She sat in the tavern with her head pressed against a wall. The dull sounds of people conversing barely touched her ears, and the shrill notes squawked out on the flute by the resident musician only seemed to make the ache inside of her worse. The tune was sorrowful, and filled with a pain she could have never put words to; yet musical notes expressed it just fine. 

It had been five months since she'd first come to the tower as a Novice, shipped off by parents traumatized by the death of their eldest child. She hated every moment she spent confined inside the white walls of that virtual prison, and took every opportunity to escape. As of yet she had not been caught in her nightly jaunts to the tavern where she would order cheap ale and sit alone for hours, drinking that same glass most of the night. She had grown used to the way people looked at her, staring at her features as if she was something from another world, and even had grown used to the occasional insult that reached her ears. But she would never grow used to the White Tower and the women with in it. 

She spent most of her time in the kitchens, scrubbing pots and pans that were caked with grease. She had often wondered if the Aes Sedai did not use their tricks to keep the grease there eternally. Her hands felt dry, and she could see cracks in her skin where the hot water she used to clean the tools had worn away the outer most layer of flesh. She was always in trouble, one thing or another always saw her down in the kitchens. They had threatened her numerous times with banishing her from the tower, however they never followed through with it. So they kept her, as a prize for the tower a woman of white dressed in white. 

She watched the flames dance in a wide hearth upon an opposite wall from the one she made her peace in. They played lively games with themselves consuming the wood that was stocked several logs high inside of the brick and mortar. She watched the red and the yellow dance around the orange, and could even tell where the blue flames at the base of the licks signified the place of most heat. She envied the colors she could see, envied them because they were not her own. 

She bore the mark of an albino, her features colorless. Her eyes were two pits of white, with irises in pale grey, so light that were it not for a twinge of pink from the albino peril they would have vanished into the whites entirely. Her lips were of the same make, thin and boyish with only the barest of tints to bring them out from the rest of the features on her face, which were mostly defined by shadow. Her hair was a fine silver, reaching long down her back in a satin wave. Lashes and eye brows were that same fine color; as if one were to hold it above direct light it would be invisible entirely. On her neck, and the backs of either hand one could sometimes see the deep bluish tint of her veins, running dark red blood through her body just under that bleached surface. This was what brought the stares, the lack of color, the haunting eyes that never seemed quite able to find a focus. This was what brought the whispers and the comments of "dark friend" where those issuing them thought she could not hear. 

She took the last final drop of amber colored liquid into her mouth, enjoying the way the drink numbed her senses. Number her till she could not feel anything. And she set the large mug before her, like every night, she contemplated getting a second one. 

She'd taken to drowning her sorrows in silence, spending the long hours of the night alone, save that glass of alcohol. She feared sleep, and thusly only achieved an hour or less every night. Her dreams were so vivid, so horrifically vivid, that she could not bear to witness them, to bring back the memories, and the pain inside of her that seemed eternal. Five months ago she'd been taken away from Fal Dara, the only home she'd known since childhood. She was done so under the direction of her parents whom had had little to do with her upbringing since first moving to Fal Dara when she had been but five years of age. 

Her brother had always taken care of her, sheltered her from the world out side, unable to let her bear the burden of reality alone. He had always looked out of his sister, and never questioned her innocence, her actions, or her words despite the way she looked. He had rescued her from under the abusive hand of her father's drunken law, and made her woman in the same night. She was his princess, and he her knight in shinning armor. However in reality she was not a princess, but he was a knight. A warrior for Fal Dara's greatest armies, hell bent to deter the evil that slowly crept over the land. 

Such a battle had taken Valshean from her just days before she had been placed on a wagon train making their way to the White Tower. Five months ago it had all changed. Her fairy tale had become a night mare when her brother's closest friend had given her a letter stained with dirt and blood, torn along the edges. She'd been unable to open the letter for days, her body laying in the bed they had shared and weeping for her loss and the broken heart she now suffered. It was on the road to The White Tower that she found strength inside of her to open the sealed envelope and read what had been written to her. Even now, she knew the words by heart. 

_ "Dear Kaiohko, My beloved: Things always seem to change when we least want them to, and I know you will never understand why I have done what I have. If you are receiving this letter I must surely be dead, I pray that Ching was able to deliver it to you safely. I know these words will be of little comfort to you now, and I know your heart must ache beyond any description I could hope to write. I feel it is important for you to understand that I have done what I have only for you. Everything I have ever done has been for you and you alone. I love you even in death, as I did in life. Fear not, this is not our final good-bye. In flesh we will meet again in the coming ages, and again and again until time its self parishes and the wheel no longer turns. You will know me, always, by my love for you. _

Eternally; Valshean"

The words were a constant reminder of what had been, and what never would be. She had known from the beginning they would be separated, that it was only a matter of time before the world tore them apart. It had tried so many times growing up, when the world has abused her for her freakish appearance, and cast him out of excepted society for his devotion to her protection. 

Valshean had left on a cold day in the dead of winter. A band of Trollocs was crossing into the borderlands, and as a solider in the Sheinarian army Valshean had gone to do his duty. The city of Fal Dara bore a saying "Death is light as a Feather, Duty heavy as a mountain". It was a strange quote, that signified the very core of all those with in the walls of Fal Dara, constant struggle against the darkness. Valshean had answered to his duty, his oaths, and left behind the one woman who loved him. 

As she sat in her chair she felt exhaustion claim her, threatening to make her lids droop and fall heavily closed. She'd been there most of the night, and the barley ale was having its effect known, dragging upon her responses and her senses. She would have to leave soon before the lack of sleep she'd suffered the past few months caught up with her in full force. She dreaded sleep, dreaded the Tower and worst of all dreaded her dreams. 

They were often riddled with images of what she'd lost, and what she was desperate to have again. They were one in the same, and could be given a single name; Valshean. Her heart ached when his name flashed across her mind, and she could feel a sting of tears against her flesh. 

Her fingers managed to release their death grip upon the mug, she could feel the glass weakening in her frail hands, and the fibers seemed almost ready to shatter. Along the lines of the most pressure, where her fingers had connected there were hairline fractures in the thick material, the strength of which to create was certainly unable to be held in such a small body. She pushed the glass away from her, staring at its empty self for several moments, before finally she stood. Her legs felt wobbly beneath the weight of her figure, though she weighed little in comparison to those her age, or even her height, she felt as if one step would see her crumbling to the floor. The room seemed to spin in a thousand directions at once. With measured breath she stepped one foot in front of the other. And then she repeated it, until she could no longer hold onto to near by chairs, that offered a brace of her hands, and she was walking upon her own. Stiff legged to the door, and out into the harsh night time air….   
… He couldn't see in the pitch black, and relied only upon dim yellow circles cast by wavering street lights, as well as those from clear windows. It was enough to keep him from staggering into a bench, or something else that could have harmed his body. He felt the weight of his journey upon his shoulders, strengthened from months of farm work, but still weak, weary from the trek. The cobble stones felt strange beneath the soles of his shoes, worn smooth were wagon tracks had run a thousand and more times, the ground was uneven, untrustworthy. He'd grown used to the hard packed dirt roads of the country side, traveling from farm to village and back again. 

His breath came heavy in his lungs, and over his dried lips, the chilling night air bit at his nose and bare fingers. He could see his destination in the distance, a glimmering tower of white that seemed to glow under the clean night's sky. He was so close, yet so far, he could never find his way. He'd arrived in the city several hours before and remained no closer then that first glimpse of the pillar of stone. 

A tavern, what he would need was a tavern for the night. A place with a warm bed and hot meal, his fingers unconsciously weighed the pouch that bounced against his hip as he fumbled along the darkness. There was enough to get him a decent lodging, at least for the night. He prayed it would not take longer; he would not have enough to make it back to his home if it did. 

His mind was cruel to him, in the distance, in the darkness, he saw a ghost. A ghost that belonged to a child's body, small and petite, that moved along down the street away from him. But he knew the ghost from even such a distance, four, perhaps even, 5 houses separated he and that beautiful illusion. The cruel joke was the way the hair fell upon the wraith, silver waves that reached down to a waist so thin. He knew it for female by the flowing gown of white that draped around the ankles and swished in the street, never quit touching the dirty road. 

His entire body quivered, shaking with the images this figure conjured. The exhaustion wore him thin and he found his site so fixed upon this woman that he missed the appearance of a stone in the road. His feet stumbled upon it and he dropped to the ground with an "oof" when flesh met stone. His body felt pained to move, he lifted his head, watching the ghost move further away. It gleamed in the darkness, as glowing in white beauty as the tower that stretched above the tallest building in Tar Valon. 

"Kaiohko…" He breathed the name between hoarse lips, his hands struggling to push and pull upon the stone in the same instance. His body was propped upon the right arm and the left was used for counter balance, though no weight was pressed upon it. "Kaiohko…" He whimpered the name, a pleading and pathetic sound…   
… The night was a horrible place to find yourself alone. The cold seeped into her pores, leaching upon the warmth of her body and clinging to the stiff, starched, fabric of her dress. The moon rose high above, illuminating the sky with a navy blue compared to an angry black. She could see that place she was forced to live with in, the pillar of alabaster stone that stood a glowing monument brighter then the moon that glanced white-light off the polished surface. 

She was in mid-stride when she thought she could hear her name. Whispered upon the wind and dancing through the trees. She paused, concentrating on the sounds she could hear around her, and found nothing. The sparse trees that served as decorative art along the sides of the road offered a few shifts in their branches, some nocturnal rodent that bounced from stem to stem. Her name was no where to be found, and as she was to return to her agonizing trek to the White Tower, she could hear it again. 

"Kaiohko" 

Soft as a summer wind in the hottest months of the season, she knew for certain her mind had not imagined such a thing, conjured the sound as a distraction from her impending doom. Her heart pressed against the confines of her chest, pumping blood so heavy through her veins it echoed in her ears, and she felt certain it bounced back at her from the stone walls of the buildings around her. Slowly her body turned, pivoting upon a heel to turn her frame around. A full one hundred and eighty degrees around to face the road she had already traversed. She would have known the figure any where, the shoulders that arched as the man crumbled upon the ground struggled to stand. 

Her breath caught in her throat, pressing against the back of her mouth, and rising in a gush of soundless air. Her mouth hung open at the site, and her mind flashed with memories that resounded with a familiar echo inside of her chest. She knew the man who called her name, she knew him upon site. 

"Kai…" He whispered, and yet the sound reached her ears. His legs could not support him, and as he attempted to push himself to a stand from his knee, he collapsed again. 

She rushed forward, her shaky steps that had earlier plagued her no longer seemed so ill fated. She ran, gathering the folds of her dress into her hands, and lifting them high above her knees, revealing boney white legs beneath. She was breathing hard when she reached his side, dropping down upon the caps of her knees. The cobblestone cut her flesh as she fell hard, opening her skin to let red blood seep out. 

Her hands were upon his shoulders, attempting to lift his upper body, so that all weight was pressed against his lower body. "Valshean!" She cried, tilting his chin so that he would be forced to look upon her. 

His expression caught her off guard; a horrible scar was upon his face. Over his right eye an "x" shape had been established with the faint lines of scar tissue. The other wise sharp brown color of the iris was dimmed and murky with a cloudy fog over the surface giving the one eye a glazed look. The left however stared upon her with the same keen perception she could remember from early childhood when no lie would slip past his notice. 

"Kai…" He rasped the shortened version of her name, a pet name he'd given her many years ago when they were both too young to truly understand the world. He rested his weight back upon his heels, with knees pressed into the ground. His arms looped her shoulders and drew her up against him, holding her as tightly as he could manage. His left arm, though still just as muscled as the right moved slower, with a stiffness to it inherent from injuries that would never heal to restore him to new again. All the weakness he'd felt, the exhaustion that had him moving so slowly, was gone. He felt this surge in energy with the surge in emotion, when he could touch her. He felt her against, the soft lengths of her long silver colored hair in his fingers, and he knew his search was over. 

She'd been so certain it could never be, and even as she heard his heart thunder against her ear, she could not believe her fortune. The nights she'd spent alone, sobbing into her pillow, the dreams where he'd died a thousand times. All of it was over now, as he held onto her, and she held onto him. The tears burned so sharp in her eyes, stinging the sensitive nerve endings until they fell, freely down her pale cheeks, flushed with the night air and her own joy. 

"You're trembling." She cooed to him softly. 

"You're heart is pounding." He answered her. His fingers moved to stroke her hair, softly running the water-like tresses through calloused and dirtied fingers. 

_ more to come..._


End file.
